Shades of Topaz formerly Guardian Angel
by Jaycee27
Summary: A bunch of one/two shot scenes of Bella and Edward. They're all completely unrelated to each other, I just didn't want to start a new story every time i write one, so they;re all together.
1. Guardian Angel

A/N: Ok, this is something completely different from my other fanfic. It's just something I thought of the other day when I was sick and I kept thinking, how much more fun it would be to be sick if I was Bella...

It had been the longest of days. My entire body seemed to droop, no longer supported by my mind, which had exceeded all its capacities in keeping me sane for the past twelve hours. I welcomed the exhaustion that engulfed me now, knowing that the next time I regained awareness, the ordeal that I so often had to endure as the burden of loving a vampire would be nearly over.

Despite the tiredness that weighed me down, I did not lose consciousness immediately as I sank back into the soft bedding and closed my eyes. The small bed was uncharacteristically spacious tonight and the absence of its other regular occupant was a hollow void beside me.

"He needs this," I reminded myself constantly, "It will be easier for him to be close once he's not thirsty."

This didn't help. It was stifling under the thick duvet and I couldn't tell whether that was real or simply a reaction to the missing cold arms encircling my body. My head pounded and ached, begging me to go to sleep so it could rest but I was unable to comply. I threw off the burden of my covers irritably and rolled onto my back, closing my eyes and concentrating very hard on nothing. Somehow Edward always managed to find his way back into my thoughts.

I gave in to my throbbing headache and stumbled to the bathroom where I quickly downed two painkillers then found my way painfully back to bed. I marveled at how my crashing around never once interrupted the steady rhythm of Charlie's snores, just barely audible from down the hall.

I finally slept, uncomfortably at first, but more deeply as the painkillers took effect. Now that I had finally escaped into my dreams, I was no longer tormented by missing Edward. He was there, as always, in my dreams, not quite as beautiful as in reality, but even my dream-Edward's smile was enough to keep my sleep peaceful and contented.

I awoke the next morning and instantly regretted it. This was not a normal reaction for me, anxious as I always was to get through the morning's routine as hastily as humanly possible to arrive at the part of the morning where Edward would be waiting for me outside in his car. Today, however, even the incentive of seeing Edward was not enough to distract me from the headache, which had not relented overnight as I had expected. It was now accompanied by several other symptoms. My throat burned as I tried to swallow away the bitter taste in my mouth. I tried to breathe in through my nose, but found the air passages useless. When I stood, I fell over almost immediately, disoriented by the rushing in my head. My vision swam slightly and each sound was muffled as though someone had stuffed cotton in my ears.

None of this was enough to affect my burning desire to see Edward, so I deliberately went through the motions of preparing for school, forcing mouthfuls of cereal down my throat uncomfortably, combing through the tangled mess that had accumulated on top of my head during the night. Charlie had already left, so I didn't have to fake being happy and healthy. If he were here, he would surely order my to stay home and rest but I would not miss school if it meant another day without Edward.

I was just finishing cleaning my breakfast dishes, relieved that I had finished forcing down the meal, when I heard the quiet purr of a Volvo engine idling in the driveway. My ears had become so attuned to the subtle hum that I would recognize it amidst an entire parking lot full of different cars. I snatched a package of tissues out of the cupboard under the sink as I skipped towards the door, unable to contain my excitement. I stumbled slightly on my way, but persevered towards the gleaming brass door handle that would open the portal into my own personal heaven.

When I opened the door, he was there in front of me, his eyes flickering with what looked like annoyance. I was shocked to see him there; usually he waited for me in the car.

"Hi Edward," I greeted him, surprise creeping into my tone. The words came out slightly muffled, or perhaps it was just my impaired hearing.

""What do you think you're doing?" he asked me quietly, as he caught my wrist to keep me from moving towards the car.

"I'm going to school," I replied innocently, knowing that my angelic tone could not disguise my plugged sinuses.

"No you're not," he told me firmly, glaring at me disapprovingly. I glared right back.

"Since when do you get to decide what I can and can't do?" I fumed, my defiance marred by a sneezing fit.

"Alice predicts that you will have a very bad day if you go to school," he warned.

"Too bad. I'll have a worse day if I stay here," I retorted angrily. I was seized by another sneezing fit that subsided into loud barking coughs that shook my whole body so that I had to sit down on the steps.

"No you won't. You'll be asleep the whole time. Come on, I'll carry you up to your room," he offered gently, but still managing to convey that he was not going to let me argue my point any further. I was out of breath from coughing and the spell had left me so lightheaded and disoriented that I couldn't find the words to fight back.

My will to fight dissipated greatly once he had lifted me up and brought me back upstairs, but I knew that it was only a matter of minutes until he left to go to school. Without me. I tried to draw out the moment longer by asking him to bring me things and distracting him with small talk about his trip and my weekend alone. Unfortunately, time refused to stop for us, and as I glanced at my alarm clock, I let out a sigh of disappointment.

"You should go," I advised him, "You're going to be late."

"It's all right. I'm not going to school," he replied gazing intently at my face.

"You're not?" I asked, surprised, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to stay here and take care of you," he explained slowly as though I were incredibly unintelligent for not realizing it.

"Oh. Ok," I smiled, relieved that I wouldn't have to spend the day alone and bored after all.

I quickly fell asleep with Edward beside me, amazed by the difference his presence made. When I woke up several hours later, he was holding one of his icy hands against my sweltering forehead, with his other arm clenched tightly around me, trying to bring my temperature down. His thumb rubbed soothingly back and forth across my temple, somehow numbing the headache that refused to subside for any other treatment. He held glasses of water to my trembling lips and brushed away the moisture from my watering eyes. He distracted me from the pain in my throat by singing soft melodies in my ear until I was able to fall asleep again.

The day passed much more quickly than the one that had preceded it. When the sunlight that shone through my window began to dim, I felt my energy slipping away again. As I drifted off into slumber, I heard an angelic voice whisper in my ear

"I hope you're feeling better tomorrow, my love."

I hoped I wasn't. The worst cold in the world would not be too much to endure for another day of this.

A/N: I have a few more things like this that I've thought of, so if people like this, I might write some other unrelated scenes. I know there are other stories like that on here, but if you guys want me to, I'll keep going.


	2. Dangerous Game

"Pair up!" the teacher ordered and I looked around, wondering who to torture. Naturally, Mike was already behind me, looking at me expectantly. There were times when I wished I could allow Edward to use his irresistible powers of persuasion on the administration, to have us scheduled in the same gym class.

"Partners?" he demanded eagerly.

"Sure, Mike," I replied patiently, forcing a smile, and trying not to cringe as I watched the teacher, Mr Andrews, wheeling out a deadly looking cart full of basketballs.

We chose a hoop and took turns shooting. Well, Mike was taking shots, anyway. In my case it was more of a halfhearted flinging motion. Most of the time it didn't even end up in the vicinity of the backboard. At least Mike was still undamaged by the time Mr. Andrews Came over to complain about my bad technique.

"Ms Swan, you need to keep one hand under the ball. That's what keeps it supported. You're going to drop it on your foot again that way. No! Not like that! Here..." he repositioned m hand on the bottom of the orange deathtrap. I stared nervously at it, holding it away from me as though it were going to explode. Strangely enough, I couldn't remember feeling this terrified of James or Victoria. The curving black line on the ball became a faceless grin. There were no eyes or nose, just a tight-lipped smile, a smirk really, making fun of my ineptitude.

"Go ahead and try another shot, Ms Swan," the teacher barked impatiently. He wasn't standing a safe enough distance away from me. How would they punish me if I maimed my teacher with a basketball? Would Edward have to whisk me away to some remote country and invent a new identity for me to save Charlie the humiliation of arresting his own daughter for assault?

I took a timid step toward the closest of the confusing multicoloured lines that crisscrossed across the polished wooden floor in mazelike patterns.

"Push the ball upward with your right hand," Mr Andrews coaxed. I tried that. The ball sailed forward for a few feet and then bounced back toward my face. I let out a little yelp and leaped sideways to avoid a broken nose. Mr Andrews let out a sigh of disappointment. As an indulgence, I threw him one tiny apologetic glance but my own sigh was one of relief that nobody had been disfigured.

"Maybe you'll do better in a scrimmage," Mr Andrews suggested hopefully. He was new to the school this month, new to teaching in general in fact, and hadn't completely given up on his dream of reforming me, the school's most hopeless case of athletic disaster, in hopes of his efforts being rewarded.

"Listen up! I want each pair to join up with another to form teams of four" Mr Andrews called out, addressing the entire class now.

"Mike! Over here!" Tyler Crowley invited, beckoning for us to join him on the adjoining court. He was playing with Natalie, a new student with a soft round face and loose brown curls that bobbed around her face when she ran. This was her first day in this class. Mike sauntered over to join them and I followed unwillingly, sensing danger in this new arrangement.

We were facing Jessica, Lauren and Ben. The game was soon turned in our favour thanks to Natalie. To my surprise, she more than made up for the disadvantage of having me on hte team. She flew gracefully from one end of our section of the gym to the other, dribbling the ball with a precision and co-ordination that rivalled some of hte best players I had witnessed. Unfortunately, her inexperience with Forks High School cost us dearly. We had only been playing ofr a few minutes when she made the crucial mistake.

"Bella!" she called, sidestepping Angela in one swift motion. She nudged the ball in my direction.

"NO!" came the collective gasp from both teams, but it was already too late. I flung out my arms in a desperate attempt to shove the unwanted orange missile away at the same time as I tried to run away. My outstretched arms caught the ball at a strange angle, sending it downwards where it promptly entered into collision with my foot, causing me to trip. My legs went out from under me and the next thing I knew I had landed on top of them with a nauseating splintering sound.

The pain didn't sink in until a few seconds later, but when it did, it was sharp and searing. The gym swirled before me and before I knew it, everyone was flocked around me, staring solemnly at the gruesome scene. Hot tears of embarrassment leaked from the corners of my eyes, as I tried to avoid eye contact with everyone in the crowd. My ankle continued to throb, sending little stabbing jolts up my calf. Mr. Andrews had broken through the staring mob of students and was trying to get me to move my leg out from under me so he could look at it, but I was too stunned and hurt to be cooperative.

Everyone seemed to be more excited than concerned by my plight, looking at this as a nice change from the usual Thursday morning boredom. I blushed, still looking away from their fascinated gazes. A horrified Natalie broke through the solid wall of our classmates, and crouched down beside me.

"Bella, I'm so sorry!" she apologized, her face as red as mine.

"It's ok," I managed to choke out, "Happens all the time…I don't usually need help."

She didn't look convinced, but stepped back to rejoin the crowd.

The chatter swelled around me, making me feel trapped and suffocated. I was claustrophobic, alone in this room full of people. Mike was, of course, the first to notice this.

"She looks terrible! I'll take her to the nurse," he offered, hopefully.

"I don't know, maybe we should just phone an ambulance," Mr Andrews suggested uncertainly.

"No!" I gasped, "No hospitals."

With my luck everyone would probably find out about this anyway, but if there was any chance I could be spared the humiliating and unnecessary trip to the emergency room, I was willing to take it. The confused faces that met my unusual response clearly showed that the others didn't understand this logic. I cast desperately about for a face in the crowd that would give me some sincere sympathy. I needed someone who understood my issues with hospitals, who would remain calm and provide the reassurances I so desperately needed to hear. Angela wasn't in this class, nor was Alice, and none of my other friends really seemed to fit the criteria. Mr Andrews was still talking to himself, trying to work out what to do, obviously new to this type of situation. I bit my lip, trying to block the pain out from my mind.

"Excuse me," a quiet voice interrupted Mr Andrews' monologue from just behind me, "Would it be all right if I took her?"

I strained my neck around to see him, to make sure my wishful mind wasn't conjuring up delusions again.

"Who are you?" Mr Andrews demanded, "You're not in the class."

"I have a free period. I was just passing by, and someone told me what happened," Edward lied calmly. I knew very well that he had been monitoring my classmates' thoughts and had seen the entire incident, something I had asked him not to do countless times. I was too grateful for his intervention to be angry.

"I'm not sure that's the best idea," Mr Andrews fretted.

"My father is a doctor," Edward continued, "I'm sure he'd be happy to treat her injury." His persuasive voice seemed to be having an effect.

"I suppose," Mr Andrews agreed reluctantly.

He was meticulously careful with me on the drive to hi house. He propped my injured ankle up on a box he found in the trunk and drove even more ridiculously fast thanm his usual speed. To reassure me, he talked to the whole way.

"How are you feeling?" he asked at first, anxiously.

"A bit better now," I replied, not entirely untruthfully, htough the improvement had more to do with his presence than any lessening of the pain, "Is Carlisle going to look at my ankle at your house?"

"No, he's working today. I'm going to do it." He answered casually.

"_You_ are? Is that safe?" I worried.

"Of course it is, I went to medical school too, silly. You know that," he laughed.

"I know but have you ever actually practiced medicine?" I demanded, feeling my forehead crease.

"Relax. You worry too much," he chided, pulling my face towards him to kiss me quickly. I was about to complain that he wasn't watching the road, but I noticed suddenly that the vehicle was no longer in motion.

He sat me down on the couch in his room, and gently removed my shoe, sliding my jeans a little further up my leg than seemed necessary to examine the injury. I blushed, and I could tell that that made him smaly, although his head was bent over my foot, his long silky hair obscuring his face.

"It's just a sprain," he concluded after only a few moments of concentration.

"Darn," I muttered, "That's not going to get me out of gym for very long, is it?"

"At least six weeks," he promised, amused.

"Can't you make it longer?" I begged, giving him by best pleading look.

"You're going to make me lose my medical license," he teased, "I'll be right back."

True to his word, he was at my side again a couple of seconds later, now armed with a splint, bandages and crutches.

"Crutches! No, Edward, please don't humiliate me like that!" I exclaimed.

"You're not going to heal otherwise. You can't put any weight on that foot," he explained. He reconsidered for a moment, "Unless you'd prefer if I carried you everywhere. I really don't mind."

I glared at him.

"It's only for a few weeks, he soothed, tracing his fingers down my arm.

"Fine," I sighed, leaning against the leather back fo the couch. I closed my eyes, savouring the feeling of his cool fingers, soft against my skin, wrapping the bandage around my ankle with unwavering caution.

"Thanks Edward," I murmured, lulled almost to sleep by the carefully methodical rhythm of his work.


	3. Chapter 3

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